Double Trouble
by Sth10
Summary: The sixth part in the Father & Son series. Claire brings more changes to the life of husband John, changes that will cause heartache as well as elation, and will have a profound effect on the Boulton family forever.
1. Default Chapter

**A/N – **I originally wrote John and Claire's second son with one of my closest friends. He was then named Connor and, because he was my friend's idea in creation, he was copyrighted as her character. However, my friend and I are now no longer in contact and therefore I don't feel I can use the character of Connor without her permission. So I've taken this story, originally written by me for TBFF website using Connor, and created my own second son for John and Claire, so that is why, if you've seen it before, it has changed!

The sixth part in the Father & Son series. Claire brings more changes to the life of husband John, changes that will cause heartache as well as elation, and will have a profound effect on the Boulton family forever.

**DOUBLE TROUBLE**

The phone was ringing on John Boulton's desk. He stopped drawing a rather amusing caricature of Chris Deakin on his desk pad and looked at it for a long minute, willing it to stop ringing. When it didn't, he glared witheringly at it and answered.

"Dad, can I stay at Uncle Mickey's tonight?" A familiar child's voice yelled down the line. Adam Boulton hadn't yet learned that he didn't have to shout on the phone to make himself heard.

John sighed and leant back in his chair, trapping the phone between his shoulder and his ear so he could continue drawing while he tried to reason with his five-year-old son.

"No, Ad. I'm off work in a couple of hours and your mam's finishing at ten. I'll come and pick you up."

"But I wanna stay!"

"So you can just play on the Playstation and eat Pringles all night? I don't think so." John knew exactly what went on whenever Mickey Webb looked after his adopted nephew.

"We're eating Big Macs _actually_," Adam retorted, five going on twenty-five.

"Really?" John made a mental note to give Mickey an earful for that later.

"Can I, then?"

"I've told you. No."

"But Dad…!"

"Bye, Adam. I'll see you later."

"But…"

John hung up before his son had time to get another word out. He'd barely let go of the receiver when the phone rang again. He sighed loudly and grabbed it.

"Adam, if you're…"

"John, I'm looking at two blue lines." Instead of his son, he heard his wife's voice. He wasn't sure why she was ringing him when she was only downstairs in custody.

"Yellow," he corrected automatically, not paying the much attention. He scrawled another couple of lines on his report.

"What?"

"Double lines are yellow, Claire. Call yourself a copper…"

"Just shut up and listen."

He grinned and shut up. There were few women who could make him do that. It just proved beyond a doubt how special Claire was to him.

"Come and meet me downstairs."

"Why do I have to get up and trail all the way down there?" He propped his feet up on the desk. "You can come up here."

"John!"

He knew he was fighting a losing battle. He could never say no to her. That was why he was married with a mortgage and a five-year-old son instead of being a carefree bachelor boy. "All right, all right. I'm coming." He put the phone down and got up.

"All she's got to do is snap her fingers, eh?" Don was grinning widely at him across their desks.

"Don, would you dare go against Claire?"

"Not on your life, mate! She'd have me for breakfast."

"Exactly." John made for the door.

Don followed him out into the corridor. "Sometimes I really question your taste in women, mate."

"That's my bloody wife you're talking about!"

"You've gotta admit she's one scary woman." Don ambled a couple of paces behind John as they reached the stairs. "I mean, I've never seen her lose an argument yet!"

John couldn't stop a grin. Don was right. Claire was undoubtedly the feistiest, strongest-willed woman he'd ever met. But he didn't care. Sometimes it was nice having someone who was his equal, not just in terms of capability, but in personality and authority as well. Sometimes.

He skipped the last three steps and jumped down, his desert boots making a hard thud on the uncarpeted floor.

"You do realise that Adam does that?"

He glanced up at his wife, grinning. "You yelled?" He moved forward to kiss her.

"No, you don't." She grabbed his arm. "Come on."

"Where we going?" He let himself be pulled as Don trailed behind, never one to be left out of anything.

Claire pushed open the door to the ladies toilets. "Here."

John stopped dead. "I am not going in the ladies!"

"Yes you are."

Don grinned. "Nice to know who wears the trousers in your relationship, John."

"Shut it, you…"

"John, now!" Claire's grip tightened on his arm.

"Gerroff, will you!"

"That's it, mate. Show her who's boss." Don was shamelessly enjoying the show.

Claire turned her attention to him. "Don, sod off."

He drew himself up to his full height with great self-importance. He opened his mouth to argue, then remembered who he was about to argue with, and thought better of it. "See you later, mate."

John glared at his retreating back and wondered what the hell was the point of having a best mate who abandoned you just when you needed him to fight your corner. He moved his gaze back to his wife.

"Look, I know you want me, but can't we do it somewhere a bit more private?"

She fixed him with her steeliest glare and with one final yank, dragged him through the door.

"Mickey _was_ lying when he said you had a couch and a hairdryer in here, then," John commented.

She didn't even bother giving him a look. Instead she shoved something in front of his face. John struggled to focus on it.

"Two blue lines, John. _Not_ yellow."

He finally registered what it was. "Is that…?"

"Now who's the copper?"

She watched him carefully. She could predict exactly what his reaction would be. She'd only ever seen it once before, but she could remember every detail.

Sure enough, he froze, his eyes glazing over with a mixture of confusion and uncertainty. He dragged his fingers through his hair, breathing deeply.

"You're pregnant? Again?"

She nodded. John's arm shot out to support himself against the wall, resting his head against his forearm.

"Jesus… I didn't think…"

She waited, knowing what was coming next. Hoping it would come next.

"John, you are happy about it, aren't you?"

He met her gaze. "Yeah… sure. It just might take me a while to get used to the idea."

"It took you nearly nine months with Ad. I won't expect much different this time."

"God, can you imagine? Another one running round causing chaos?"

"You always said you wouldn't enjoy a quiet life. You certainly won't be getting one now."

He stepped back, releasing her from his embrace. "…I'm gonna go and find Don…"

"John." She caught his arm as he turned to leave. "Promise me you're all right with this."

He nodded swiftly. "Course I am. I'll talk to you later."

The door closed behind him, and Claire was left her alone with her two little lines, and the new life inside her.

X X X

"You're joking!" Don yelled. "Jesus Christ, mate!"

He trapped John in a bear hug, pounding his shoulder.

"Yeah, all right! Don't suffocate me!" John freed himself.

Don sensed his mate's lack of exuberance. "What's wrong?"

"…I dunno… I mean… I wasn't expecting it, was I?"

"Come on, John, tell me."

"I don't know what to think." John looked up. "I mean, a second kid… It changes everything, doesn't it…?"

"Don't know, mate."

"It must do."

"Look, think about it this way. Have you ever regretted having Adam, even for a minute?"

There was no hesitation in that reply. "Never. You know he's everything to me, Don."

"Exactly. So why should you feel any different about a second one? I thought it was what you wanted!"

"I did! I mean… I do… but…"

"You bothered it's not gonna be the same, aren't you? Not as good as what you and Ad have?"

John met his mate's gaze. "Guess so… It's just…" He stopped in mid-sentence.

"Go on, say it."

"…I don't know if I'm ready. One kid's a responsibility, but two? It's like…"

"John, if you don't say it I might have to choke it out of you."

John didn't smile "I don't know if I'll cope with it, Don. I'm just not sure…"

Don didn't say anything for a long minute, before he placed his hand on the back of John's head and pulled him into a manly embrace, just like he had so many times before. He knew this Scouse hard man better than anyone, and he knew what lay under the Robocop surface. He had seen the flashes of vulnerability, the uncertainty, perhaps even fear of something unknown. He considered this man a brother, and he was damned if he was going to let John suffer this on his own.

"John, listen to me." After a minute, he stepped back and released his mate. "Tell me honestly. Do you want this kid?"

John swallowed the lump in his throat. It seemed to take a long time for him to get his words out, and when they did, he almost choked on them.

"Course I bloody do."

X X X

He found Claire in the canteen, sitting with Kerry and Cass Rickman.

"Got a minute?" He leant over the back of her chair to speak in her ear.

"Yeah, sure." She got up and moved away to an empty table with him.

He sat down opposite her and reached across, clasping her hands in his. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for how I was earlier. I just wasn't expecting it, you know?"

"It's all right. Actually, I was glad you reacted the way you did. I had visions of you keeling over in the middle of the ladies."

John grinned. "I'm really sorry, yeah? I didn't mean to be so sharp about it. I just didn't know what to think."

"And do you now?"

He met her eyes, his gaze warm and sincere. "Yeah." He leant across the table to seal his lips against hers, regardless of who was watching. "God, I love you."

"Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?"

He cupped his against her face, his nose nearly touching hers. "I'm sure."

They realised everyone was looking at them with open mouths and sat back hurriedly, grinning in half-embarrassment.

"You know you've just destroyed my reputation, don't you?"

"I think you destroyed it all by yourself, lover."

He grinned. "I'd better get back upstairs. I'm in Meadows' blackest book at the moment."

"John, hang on," She caught his hand as he got up to leave. "You're picking Adam up from Mickey's, aren't you? I want you to tell him about the baby."

"Me?"

"He'll listen to you. You can get him to understand it, make sure he feels okay with it."

"Can I?"

"You know you can. Listen; don't hide anything from him, yeah? I'm not sure how he's going to take it, and the honest approach normally seems to work with him."

"He'll be fine about it." John squeezed her hand. "And don't worry, I won't go into graphic details about the conception if you don't want me too."

He made a quick escape before she had time to whack him one.

X X X

Several minutes' hammering on Mickey's door finally resulted in the appearance of a grinning Adam, flop of blond hair falling over the hazel eyes identical to John's, waving a paper aeroplane he'd made. Eventually, his minder joined him, looking at his most wide-eyed and innocent. John looked at the carpet of crisp and biscuit crumbs that decorated the front of his son's sweatshirt.

"Mickey, how many times have I told you not to give him that crap? Bloody 'ell, one day you're gonna hand him back with a bottle of Fosters in one hand, a kebab in the other, and humming the tune to Mario Brothers!"

Adam grinned up at him. "But, Dad, I do know the tune to Mario…"

"Ad, for Uncle Mickey's sake, don't finish that sentence, okay?"

"'Kay." Adam wasn't in the least deflated. "See ya, Mickey."

"I've told you, call him Uncle Mickey."

"But he said he doesn't like it! Makes him feel old."

Mickey smiled innocently. "Just remembered, got to feed the cat. See you later, sarge."

He'd closed the door before John could say another word. Still grinning, Adam started towards the car.

"Adam, brush that stuff off before you go near my car!"

"Uncle Mickey doesn't make me!"

"Uncle Mickey isn't your dad."

Adam wrinkled his nose. "Wish he was."

John put an arm round his shoulders and whispered confidentially. "Believe me, you don't."

X X X

Adam had been glued to the TV since they'd got home, watching his favourite kids programmes. John, after pacing the kitchen for half an hour, trying to decide what to say, had taken to standing in the doorway, silently studying his son.

"Dad." Adam eventually glanced round at him. "What you doing?"

Nothing ever got past the little sod. John gave up and moved fully into the room, sitting on the couch next to Adam. Taking the remote from his son's hand, he turned the TV off.

"Hey, I was watching!"

"Just give me a minute. I want to ask you something."

"What?"

John found himself hesitating. "How would you feel about having a baby brother or sister?"

Adam looked at him suspiciously, his mind already working. "Why?"

Every word John had planned to say immediately flew out of the window, and he struggled to find new ones. "Because… um… your mam's gonna have another baby…"

Adam was quiet for a minute, taking that in. "Really? She's not gonna change her mind or anything?"

"No, she's not gonna change her mind." John couldn't help but grin. "Are you all right with that?"

"Will I be able to play rugby with him?"

"We don't know its gonna be a him. You might get a sister."

Adam nodded thoughtfully. "S'pose so. Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Where is the baby?"

"Um… it's inside your mam."

"Where?"

"In her stomach, sort of."

"Weird!" Adam grinned momentarily. "Dad?"

"What?"

"Who's gonna be the baby's dad?"

"Well, I will."

"But you're my dad."

John tried to think of something reassuring and adult to say, but could only come up with: "I'm gonna be dad to both of you."

"Can you do that?"

"Yeah, course I can."

"But you're not gonna stop being my dad and start just being the baby's dad?"

John looked across at his son. "Come here." He held Adam close as the boy crawled into his arms. "Ad, whatever happens, I'm always gonna be your dad and I'm always gonna love you. I want you to understand that."

Adam looked up at him. "Promise?"

John hugged him tight. "I promise."

X X X

Adam was in bed by the time Claire got home. She stopped in his bedroom doorway on her way across the landing, watching the steady rise and fall of the Pokemon covers. Looking at her sleeping son, his blond mop splayed over the pillow, she couldn't help but see an angel lying there. Pity he wasn't quite so angelic when he was awake.

She felt the warmth of a body behind her, and a pair of strong arms wrapped round her waist. She smiled and turned her head to look at John, as he rested his chin down on her shoulder.

"Missed me?"

"How could I not?" Claire grinned. She brushed her lips against his, squeezing the hands that rested clasped on her stomach.

"The latest edition to the family all right?"

"Seems to be behaving so far. Shan't expect it to last." She looked back to Adam. "Specially not if that one's anything to go by. How'd he take it?"

"You know what he's like. Nothing bothers him. He just took it on board."

"Yeah?"

"Once I convinced him I wasn't going to stop being his dad and become the baby's dad instead, he was fine. Wanted to know exactly where the baby was of course, and if he could play rugby with it. And he's pretty convinced it's going to be a boy. That's about it."

Claire turned round and encircled her arms round his neck. "I was so bothered that he was going to hate the idea or turn jealous or something. I don't want this to cause him any problems."

"It won't! Will you stop worrying? The only problem Ad's going to have is that the baby won't be able to play rugby the second it's born."

She grinned at him. "You going to say 'I told you so' now?"

John looked deep into her eyes for a minute. Then he gave his most wicked smile. "Told you so."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N - Damn, just realised I shoulda said which characters are copyrighted to me. OK, in this piece, Jamie, Reece and Brett belong to me. Please don't use 'em without asking. I'll run back to previous pieces and do the copyright notice on them (rolls eyes)

CHAPTER 2

The next day, Saturday, John took Adam into work with him. Having being parted from his extended family and Sun Hill by school for five whole days, the boy was even more hyper than usual, eager to impart the week's news with his uncles. The world of a five-year-old was a fascinating thing that had to be shared, preferably before he exploded with tales.

"Uncle Don!" he yelled, bursting into the general office. "Got any sweets? Can I go on the computer? Will you get Tony to take me out in the area car? Can…?"

"'No' to all," John smartly interrupted before his son could finish. "And you don't have to yell; Don's not deaf yet."

"What'd you mean 'yet'?" Don demanded.

"Hey, Ad. Hear you're gonna have a wee brother or sister soon." Duncan grinned as the kid approached his desk.

Adam nodded seriously. "Yeah." Then he grinned. "Know what, Unca Dunc?"

"What?"

"Dad knocked Mum up!"

John's jaw dropped and he nearly choked trying not to laugh. "Where the hell did you learn that!"

His son grinned and pointed a finger towards the usual suspect. "Heard Uncle Don saying it."

It took Don a couple of seconds to come with an innocent remark. "I think you mean Uncle Mickey, don't you, Ad?" He looked hopefully at the boy.

Adam, however, was not going to be swayed, and shook his head firmly. "It was you."

Don looked over at his best mate and gave his most angelic smile. "Mate…"

"You're a dead man, Beech," John managed to say, in between silent fits of mirth.

Adam grinned round at the officers, all reduced to howling forms of laughter. "Want to know what happened at school?"

"Did one of your mates knock someone up?" Don asked in between fits of laughter.

Adam looked impatiently at him. "No," he said slowly, as if explaining too a three-year-old. "Only mums and dad do that, stupid!" He rolled his eyes in exasperation at the slowness of some people. Then he brightened up. "But I did see my teacher kissing the art mistress…!"

Still grinning, John left his son to finish recounting his story and retreated out onto the balcony with Don.

"God help you if the next one's as bad as that, mate." Don's shoulders still shook with mirth. "You won't get away with a thing!"

"Yeah, yeah."

Don leant on the railings next to his mate. "You all right with it now?"

"Think so."

"Did you talk to Claire?"

"Yeah, sort of. I told her I was happy with it and everything."

"Was that the truth?"

John was quiet for a long minute, looking out over the city. "…Dunno…"

"Mate, you need to find out. You can't go through with this unless you're certain. This isn't just some little thing you can ignore and hope'll go away. It's a life, a person."

"I know that."

"Yeah?"

"Don, do you want to know what I've thought of all night?" John finally looked at his mate. "I've thought about that baby – my baby." He swallowed hard. "I saw it, Don. Him. He was incredible; like me, Claire and Adam all rolled into one… a perfect mix. He was just smiling at me…like nothing could go wrong… and I just thought…"

Don reached across to squeeze his shoulder as John's voice trailed off. "How much you'll love him," he finished. "I know, mate."

John bit his lower lip, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "I don't what to do…"

"Go home," Don said simply.

"What?"

"Leave Ad here, go home and sit down with Claire. You're telling me everything, mate, but it's Claire that should be standing here listening. Go and tell her."

John was quiet for a minute then he nodded. "Cheers, mate."

X X X

"I knew something was bothering you."

John looked across at his wife as he sat opposite her at the kitchen table. "I didn't know what to say…"

"Say what you're feeling, John! That's all I want from you!"

"I don't want you thinking that I don't want this kid. I do. It's just…"

"Just what?" She reached across the wooden surface and clasped her hands around his.

His eyes met hers. "Do you think I'm a good father, Claire?"

"Course I do! Adam couldn't ask for a better dad than you!"

"I couldn't stand it if I was like my dad, even for a minute. I never want to be the sort of father he was."

"John, listen to me. You are not like Jack and you never will be. It doesn't matter whether we have one, two or five kids, you will be a good dad to them."

A look of mock horror crossed his face. "Five kids! I'll take an oath of celibacy before that happens!"

Claire couldn't help but grin, almost relieved to see the spark of humour. "What the hell made you think you could ever be like Jack?"

"I dunno… I guess I just…" He shrugged helplessly. "…I just don't want to screw this up."

"You haven't screwed up a second with Adam. Why should you now?"

He rubbed his hands over his eyes. "My dad didn't want me. He only wanted one kid, just Mike. He went mad when he found out Mam was pregnant, tried to make her get an abortion, did everything he could to try and stop her having me. When I was older, when he was drunk, he'd always tell me how none of it would've ever happened if I hadn't come along, if it'd just been him, Mam and Mike. He said having two kids was what sent him over the edge…"

He choked momentarily on the words. "That's all I've been able to think about, Claire. I can hear him, saying it over and over again. Someone once told me that kids make or break a family. They broke mine. I want them to make ours but I'm…"

"You're scared that history's going to repeat itself."

He looked up. "It's not like I even think it will. I just can't forget… I don't want to put our kids through what I went through, knowing…"

"It's not going to happen, John. You're a good father. Nothing's going to break us, all right. Especially not ghosts from the past."

A faint smile played on his lips. "If only they are just ghosts."

X X X

Don showed up that night, and wasn't surprised to find tranquillity had descended on the Boulton household. If there was one person who could banish any doubts John had in his head, it was Claire. Don grinned to himself and dropped into his usual armchair, turning on the TV as he did so.

Claire raised an eyebrow as she looked in his direction. "Do you live here now or something?"

Don grinned. "Only if there's food and alcohol available."

"Well, there isn't."

"That's OK." Don put his feet up on the coffee table. "You can have the pleasure of my company anyway."

"Great." John glanced up and gave his best sarcastic smile.

"Uncle Don!" Adam scrambled down from where he sat with his dad to wave a pack of playing cards under Don's nose. "Show me what to do! Like you were doing with Uncle Mickey."

Don winked at his godson and took the cards, shuffling them with well-practiced skill.

"You teach him to play anything other than snap and you're dead," John told him, grinning.

"John, _would _I?"

John gave him a knowing look but said nothing. He settled back on the couch, putting his arm round Claire's shoulders as Don began to teach Adam the rudiments of the Beech version of snap. Less than a minute later the phone rang.

"Boulton." John eventually found the cordless down the side of the couch.

Silence answered his greeting. John frowned, took the phone away from his ear to look at it, then held it back again.

"Hello? Gonna speak or what?"

Still nothing.

"Listen, ring me back when you learn how to use a phone." He tapped the cancel button and returned the phone to its home down the couch arm.

"Who was that, Dad?" Adam looked up. "Was it a stalker?"

John laughed. "I should bloody well hope not."

"I'd like a stalker," Adam announced.

"No, you wouldn't."

"Would. Then I could get you to beat him up."

"Wouldn't you prefer me to beat him up, Ad?" Don asked.

"Nah." Adam shook his head. "You're not as hard as Dad."

John was in the middle of a fit of laughter when the phone rang again. Adam grabbed it before his father could stop him.

"Hello, Mr Stalker," he shouted into the receiver. He paused and listened as someone spoke. "Oh. Yeah."

Wrinkling his nose, he held the phone out to John, looking very disappointed. "It's not a stalker. It's Uncle Rod."

John reached out and took it. "Rod, you just ring me a minute ago, mate?"

"No, I'm ringing you now."

"Never mind, forget it. What's up?"

Rod immediately launched into a highly detailed account of his latest conquest. John leant back, barely hearing a word. A frown furrowed his brow.

X X X

"Beech." Don answered his ringing mobile after listening to the first chorus of the _Eastenders_ theme tune it exuded.

"Don, it's me." He heard John's voice.

"Is it?"

"I'm at St Hugh's with Claire."

Don felt an inexplicable wave of panic, almost as if it was his own baby. "Has something happened? Is the baby all right?"

"Yeah, course it is." John's voice sounded unsteady. "We just saw the first scan."

Don grinned and relaxed. "Go on, then, spill it."

He heard John swallow. "I was right, Don, in my dream… it's a boy…"

"Mate, that's great!"

"I looked at the pictures… and I could see him, see his face and everything."

"Don't tell me, he was wearing a St Helen's kit."

"He's perfect, Don."

"Course he is, you pillock!"

John gave a laugh, but Don could tell his emotions were about to overflow. "I'm gonna go and pick Adam up from school. Let him have a look."

"Don't let him near them with a pen. Apparently he drew glasses and spots on Mickey's poster of Lara Croft."

John's laugh was real that time.

"Let's hope the new edition doesn't copy him, eh?" Don said.

"Too right, mate. I'll talk to you later."

"Don't worry, I'll be round."

John grinned to himself. "Thought you might."

X X X

"That's a baby?" Adam wrinkled his nose as he sat in the passenger seat, looking at the scan picture. He had already discarded his blazer and his tie hung in a loose noose around his unbuttoned collar.

"You've got it upside down."

Adam turned it the right way up and shook his head. "Looks better the other way."

John grinned, swinging the wheel hard to miss to one of the crowds of milling schoolboys. "It's a boy."

"Yeah?" Adam brightened immediately. "Does that mean he'll play rugby?"

"He might."

"What's his name?"

"He hasn't got one yet."

"You're not going to call him Adam as well, are you?"

John grinned again. "No, Ad, we're not."

"Good." His son settled back in his seat, satisfied. He was quiet for less than a minute. "Dad?"

"What?"

"Can I name the baby?"

"Dunno. Depends what names you've got."

Adam's forehead wrinkled as he thought. "Terminator!"

"Definitely not."

"Bob! Like Bob the Builder!"

"I don't think so."

Adam thought again. "What about Hercules? We've done him in school."

"No."

"Aw, Dad!"

"Think of a proper name, not a cartoon character or some bloke from thousands of years ago."

Adam gazed out of the window for a minute, his lips moving slightly with his thoughts. Finally, he turned back to John and said with great decidedness: "Jammy."

"Jammy! What're you on about?" John was amused.

"Like that football player you said was crap! Jammy Redhap"

Understanding dawned on John. "You mean Jamie, you idiot," he said fondly. Adam had never been able to grasp former Liverpool player Jamie Redknapp's name.

"Oh." Adam looked disappointed. "So, Jamie's not a real name?"

"Yeah, it's a real one. You like it?"

Adam nodded seriously. "Does it matter if it's not like I said it was?"

John laughed. "No. It doesn't matter."

"Will you call him that, then?"

"You never know."

X X X

"Dad…"

John glanced across at his five-year-old standing by the doorway. He muted the TV. "Hey, mate, you're supposed to be in bed."

"Yeah, I know." Adam bounced into the room with the energy of a boy who wasn't ready for sleep. "But I wanna know something."

Giving up, John patted the seat on the couch next to him. He held his son close when he had crawled up next to him. "This had better not still be about whether prawn cocktail's a better crisps flavour than smoky bacon."

"Nah, I decided that ages ago!" Adam said scornfully. He started playing with John's silver neckchain, twirling it in his small fingers. "Y'know 'bout Mum an'…an' this baby she's having, right?"

John smiled. "Yeah."

"And you said the baby was in Mum's stomach, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well, how'd it get there?"

John's heart sank into his boots, as is making a run from this awkward conversation. He wished he could run as well. "Um…well…. One day, when girls get to your mam's age, they…they choose to have a baby. Then they get one."

"How?"

"By being nice people. They deserve it, yeah?"

"But Mum says you're not a nice person sometimes. I heard her say you're a bastard to work with."

"Never mind that," John said quickly.

"But how's the baby get in her stomach?"

"She asked for it."

"From a shop?"

"Not exactly."

"Ordered it from one of them magazines?"

"No, not quite."

"How?"

"Um… when two people really like each other…they stay together and nine months later they have a baby. Okay?"

Adam nodded. John looked back at the muted TV.

"So if you like someone and you're close to them, then you have a baby?"

"Yep."

"So just touching a girl will make her have a baby?"

"Um, no…no, you have to really, really like the girl."

"Right." Adam paused. "So if you really, really like the girl, then what do you do to have a baby?"

"You have to… stay at hers for the night."

"Like a sleep-over?"

"Yeah."

"Like I do at Uncle Mickey's?"

"No."

"But how?"

"You have to…" John rubbed his brow, frustration at lack of words building. "You have to go to bed with the girl." _There we go, sorted!_

"Okay." Another pause. "Then what?"

"What do you mean 'then what'?"

"Do you just go to bed?"

"Yes."

"So you have to really, really like a girl, go to bed and she wakes up with a baby?"

"In a way, yeah. I guess."

"How?"

"Because that's the way things work, okay? Now go to bed. If you still want to know in the morning, ask your mam while I'm at work."

Adam nodded and shuffled off the couch. He hesitated before opening the living room door. "What if I don't like my brother?"

"You'll be bigger so you can beat him up if he gets outta line." John wondered what Claire would do to him if she heard where this conversation was going.

"Can I have a sister instead?"

"Hopefully not. Don't think I can copes with girls."

"Yeah, girls are yucky." Adam wrinkled his nose, then brightened. "Dad, can I have a dog instead?"

"Not a hope in hell's chance." John pointed out the door. "G'night Ad."

"Night Dad."

Small footsteps pounded back up the stairs. John let out a long breath and wondered if that could have gone much worse.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Adam evidently forgot to ask Claire his world-stoppingly important question the next morning, for when John returned home he wasn't confronted with the earache he had been expecting from his wife. Pleased with that narrow escape, he waited until Claire had left to start the graveyard shift before resigning himself to the fact he would have to make dinner.

He was in the kitchen when the cordless started ringing. The sounds of Adam scrambling around the living room trying to find it filled the house.

"Hello?" He finally discovered it and jabbed the answer button. He listened. "Who're you?" Light dawned at the answer. "Oh, hiya! Yeah. Hang on."

He hurtled through to the kitchen, where John was wrestling with the supposedly easy-to-open microwave meal.

"Who is it?" He looked down at Adam as his son poked him with the aerial.

"Nana from Liverpool."

John frowned and took the phone. "Mam?"

"Y'alright, son?"

He was almost surprised to hear the Irish lilt of his mother. It had been at least two months since he'd last spoken to her. "Um, yeah, I'm fine…"

"I heard about the baby. Michael rang me."

"Yeah, I was gonna call you…"

"Like hell you were. I know you. You'd only remember me six months after the kid was born."

"Sorry, Mam."

"You usually are." She sounded as if she was smiling. "Have you heard Michael's news?"

"Mam, his name's Mike."

"Don't tell me what my son's name is, John Boulton! Have you heard or not?"

"Heard what?"

"Jen's pregnant again."

John nearly dropped the phone. "You're joking!"

"Do I sound like I'm jokin'? They'll probably be on the phone to you when they get a minute."

"Bloody hell!"

"Hey, less of the bloody swearin'!"

"You just said the same thing!"

"I'm your mother; I'm allowed too."

John couldn't help but grin. "I take it Mike and Jen didn't plan this one?"

"Don't ask personal questions. How's Adam?"

"Fine. Doing well at school and everything."

"When you bringin' him up 'ere?"

"Dunno. Haven't thought about it."

"Jesus Christ, John, the kid's got a heritage he doesn't know a thing about. You bring him up here or I'll come down there and fetch him meself."

"He doesn't need to know about Liverpool, Mam." John's voice took on a warning edge. "He's a Londoner, not a Scouser. It isn't part of his life."

"Well it flamin' well should be!"

"Don't start, all right. I'm not gonna argue with you. End of discussion."

His mother sighed audibly, wanting him to hear. "Has anyone else called you recently, John?"

"Like who?"

"…Anyone…"

John sighed. "Mam, people call me all the time. Who do you think should've?"

There was silence.

"Mam," John pressed. "What's going on?"

"…I spoke to your dad…"

The words shot through John's brain like a bullet. His hand shot out to grab the wall, his legs suddenly turning to jelly. "What?"

"We've been meetin'… just for a coffee, that sorta thing…"

"You've what!" John's voice rose to a shout. "What'd I tell you, Mam! I told you not to trust him! I told you to stay the hell away from him!"

"He wanted to know how you and Michael were gettin' on. The man's got a right to know about his sons, John."

"I'm not his son, all right! I'm nothin' to do with him!"

"John…"

He cut her off sharply. "How long've you been havin' these cosy little chats?"

"I saw him at a funeral about a month ago, a friend we knew when you and Michael were little. We got talkin'. He's clean now, John. Has been for two years…"

"Crap," John snapped. "That's a fucking load of crap and you know it!"

"I've seen the doctor's reports! I've spoken to his social worker! It's for real this time."

"Mam, it's been for real every time!" John's voice rose to a shout. "Can't you understand? He is never going to change! He's always going to be a lying, manipulative bastard. I can't believe you've got taken in by him again!"

"It's not like I'm re-marryin' him! I see him mebbe once a week. We sit in a café and talk. He tells me about his job and everything…"

"He's got a job?" John interrupted sneeringly. "Won't last longer than a month."

"…And I tell him about Michael and Jen and the kids." She continued on as if he hadn't spoken. "And you, Claire and Adam."

"You've got no bloody right!"

"I've got every right, John. He wanted to know!"

John fell silent. His mind shot back to that silent phone call. "…You told him about the baby, didn't you?"

"It just slipped out…"

"I don't believe you!" John yelled. "I can't believe… Listen, you tell him from me. If he even thinks about getting in contact with me or my family, I'll kill him.

"John…"

"I mean it, Mam. I'll kill him."

X X X

Claire knew as soon as she entered the living room something wasn't right. John didn't even glance at her, but she could see that his face was set as if in stone, his eyes sparking with fiery anger. She hadn't seen him like that for a long time.

"John?"

"What?" His voice was taut, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

She moved to sit next to him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"John."

He kept his gaze fixed straight ahead. "…Mam rang."

"And that's a problem?"

"He knows about it." John's voice was so low it was barely audible.

"Who knows about what?"

"…Him…that bastard…"

"Your dad?"

"Mam told him about the baby."

Claire didn't speak for a minute, unsure of the words she should use. What could she say? How could she make it any better? She had seen this before and knew words were meaningless to John when it came to his father. "I'm sorry, John," she eventually said, resting a reassuring hand on his arm.

"It was him who rang that night. I know it was." He didn't seem to acknowledge her touch.

"At least he hasn't called again," she tried, unable to think of anything else.

He gave a humourless laugh. "You know, I actually thought I'd finally got rid of him. Stupid, huh? Like I'm ever gonna get rid of him. He's gonna haunt me for the rest of my life. Every time things come good, he's gonna be there, casting his shadow over it." He ran his hand over his eyes. "I've fought him all my life, Claire. Why the hell can I never win? Why can't I end it once and for all? For fuck's sake, I'm about to become a dad again. And I can't even keep Adam safe from that bastard. What sort of a father does that make me?"

"One that's better than Jack could ever be." Claire's grip tightened on his arm. "John, look at me."

Slowly, his eyes moved to her face.

"You may have fought Jack all your life, but you've never lost to him. You may not have won, but you've never lost either. You've never let him win. Surely that's something."

"No! How the hell can that be something!" His voice rose suddenly. "It doesn't mean anything! Not to me, not to him."

He fell silent, burying his head in his hands. When he spoke again, Claire could barely make out his words.

"When Ad was born, I swore he'd never have anything to do with my family. I really believed I could make it happen. And now he's just walking all over me again. For God's sake, I feel like I'm that kid he used to beat up every night! I shouldn't have to go through this again…"

"At least you're not going through it on your own." Those words were the only comfort Claire had to offer.

He looked up, unsmiling. "Aren't I?"

X X X

Adam didn't understand the air of tension that had settled over the house. The only thing he knew was that something was bothering his dad, and that he didn't like it. He had tried asking if he could make it better, but John had just smiled sadly and said no. Claire had told him the same thing. Even Uncle Don had said there was nothing he could do, that his dad would get over it in time. That had confused Adam. Why in time? Why wouldn't John get over it there and then, like he did when Wasps lost a match? Adults were very hard to understand sometimes.

Uncle Mike had rung last night. His dad had only let him speak to Danny for a few minutes. Adam had waited for John to finish talking, but he'd gone for hours and Adam had gone to bed before the conversation had ended. He's never known his dad talk to Uncle Mike for that long. Even his mum didn't spend that long on the phone, and John said she could talk for England.

He was thinking about these worldly problems as he sat watching TV. It had been two days since Nana from Liverpool had phoned, and his dad was still acting weird. Jarrett's old and wise twin brothers (aged eight) had told him all men got like that when their wives were going to have a baby, but Adam hadn't been convinced. It was definitely something else…

He jumped as the phone began to ring from the coffee table. He frowned at it, wondering if it was Nana again, ringing to put John in an even weirder mood. But he couldn't just sit there and let it ring, even if it was Nana, so he answered it.

"Can I speak to John?" A man's voice asked. Adam vaguely recognised the accent, and he realised it sounded a lot like his dad's.

"He's in the shower."

"Can you go an' get him for me?"

"Who are you?" Adam asked.

"Me name's Jack."

"I'm Adam."

"Yeah, I know."

Adam frowned. "How'd you know?"

There was a long pause. "…Can you just get John?"

"Yeah," Adam sighed. He took the phone away from his ear and left the living room, trudging up the stairs with a five-year-old's grouchiness. "Dad?" He hammered onto the bathroom door.

"What?" John appeared in the doorway, dripping water, a towel wrapped round his waist.

"Man's on the phone." His son presented him with the handset. "He knew who I was. Who's he?"

"I dunno, Ad, I'm not a mind reader."

Adam gave him a scornful look. "I know that!"

He thumped back downstairs, obviously unimpressed. John grinned and put the phone to his ear. "Yeah?"

There was silence. He frowned, about to speak again, but before he could, a familiar voice sounded. "John?"

John's heart ceased to beat as he heard his father for the first time in five years. "I don't believe this…"

"John, please. Don't hang up…" Jack sounded almost desperate, pleading with the son he barely knew.

"Why the hell shouldn't I?"

"I just wanna talk t'ya."

"Well I don't want to listen, all right."

"Please…"

"Why're you doing this!" John's voice rose suddenly. "You've left me alone for years! Why the hell do you have to come back now!"

"I don't want any trouble, son."

"You always want fucking trouble. That's the only thing you know. You forgotten my wedding day, have you!"

"It was a mistake…"

"It was always a mistake! Every time! For God's sake, I'm a grown man, and you still thought you could get away with it!"

"I wasn't thinking straight!"

"You don't know how to think straight! You don't get it, do you? I'm a grown man, a copper. I could kill you any time I wanted, and get away with it as well. But I haven't. You know why I haven't? Because you're not worth the effort. You're scum, and that's all you ever will be. Now stay out of my fucking life."

"I just wanted to stay I'm happy for you, about the baby…"

"Don't even say it!" John spat. "I don't care, all right. My family is none of your business and if you _ever_ ring here again, if you _ever_ have any contact with my son again, I'm gonna beat you to within an inch of your life. Just so you can see how it feels. You understand?"

"Why do you have to be like this, John? Can't you remember the good times? We had some fun together, you, Mike and me. Don't you remember standing on the terraces at Anfield when you were little?"

"Don't pull that one with me!" John snarled. "Don't you dare."

"It wasn't all bad, son. Don't let the bad memories wipe out the good."

"How can you say that! There wouldn't be any bad memories if it hadn't been for you!" John tried to keep the anger in his voice, but his rage was slowly dying. He could remember the good times. He could see himself and Mike, clutching red scarves, being held up in a pair of strong arms to see the Liverpool players charge out onto the pitch. For a split second, tears stung his eyes before he swiped them away.

"John, all I want to do is talk. Can we meet?"

"You what…?" John started in disbelief.

"I've got a job now," Jack rushed on. "Long-distance lorry driving. I'm gonna be down in London in a few days. I was thinkin' maybe we could…"

"Well you can think again."

"Please, son. Just you and me. Not Claire, not Adam, not even your mam. Just you an' me, like it used to be. Just half an hour."

John swallowed the lump in his throat.

"I'll think about it," he muttered, before he cancelled the call.

X X X

He thought about it. He thought so hard his head ached and his brain begged for a break. For two days, that was all he could concentrate on. He tried to block out the memories, good and bad, not wanting to remember, but somehow they found their way back into his mind. As he lay in bed at night, he would see his childhood all over again. He'd see himself running out onto the pitch for his first rugby game. He'd see himself downing his first try. Then he'd see the fist and the boot raining down on him as he lay there. He'd hear a child's laughter, the happy Scouse tones of a proud kid. Then he'd hear that same child's cries, his yells echoing round and round until they threatened to deafen him.

There were moments in those two days when he would look at Adam and see himself. He'd hear his son yelling out like he had, begging for an end. Just the thought of Adam being hurt like that made him feel sick.

It took so much effort for him to finally pick up that phone, and say yes.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

He met the man he had once called Dad in a café just off Oxford Street. Age had been good to Jack Boulton, and he still had the same strong-featured face and fit, athletic build his son had inherited, showing very little sign of his years. He was approaching sixty now, the dark hair going grey, the same confident, striding walk John had beginning to slow, but the deep hazel eyes and wicked grin were still the same. When John first watched him enter the café, he felt he was looking back on his life all over again. A wave of emotion washed over him but he ignored it, staying splayed-legged in his seat as his father approached the table.

"How are you, son?"

John's arms remained folded defensively across his chest. "Siddown and say what you've gotta say."

Jack looked at him for a long minute, then took the second chair and sat. "It's been a long time."

"Not nearly long enough."

"I can understand you still being angry at me."

John gave a bitter laugh. "I'm not angry at you. It's simpler than that. I hate you. I've always hated you. Once the anger had gone, that's what I had left. Hate."

"Don't blame you. What I did…"

"Look, don't start that. I don't wanna hear it. You can make all the apologies and excuses you want, but you can't change the fact that you did it. And that's what matters to me, more than any words you could ever say. The fact that you did it, night after fucking night."

Jack shifted uncomfortably, searching for a way to change the subject. "How's Adam?" he eventually asked.

"Fine," John replied shortly.

"And Claire?"

"Fine."

"S'pose you've heard 'bout Mikey."

"His name's Mike," John snapped. "It has been since he was sixteen, not that you'd remember that."

"He's got three kids already, hasn't he?" Jack avoided the remark.

"Yeah."

"See 'em often?"

"When I can."

"John, you're not makin' this easy for me."

"Why should I?"

"Will you just give me a chance? I just want to talk about my family. I've got four grandkids I've never seen. I've got another two on the way. I just want to know about 'em, y'know?"

"Then ask Mam."

"Do any of them know about me?"

"Dunno. Adam doesn't. Mike's boys might have some idea. I dunno; we don't talk about it."

"Can hardly blame you, I s'pose."

John looked straight at him. "No. You can't."

The older man looked away, his fingers running nervously along the edge of the table. "D'you know what the baby's gonna be yet?"

"A boy."

"Yeah? That's great."

John's gaze remained unwavering. "We're thinkin' about callin' him Jamie," he offered, making a move of free speech for the first time.

Jack registered this immediately, his face relaxing slightly in acknowledgement of the small effort his son had made. "Good name. I like it. Where'd you get it from?"

John allowed a ghost of a smile. "Ad came up with it. He heard me talking about when Jamie Redknapp played for Liverpool. We're thinking of Roen for the middle name, after Mam's dad. Keep the Irish going in the family."

Jack laughed easily. "You remember how your mam used to try and get you and Mike to learn Irish in the evenings? You'd just got shot of your homework and she'd be tryin' to force that on you. You used to go mad at her."

"Yeah." John's reply became short again.

"Don't you ever think about those times, John? When we used to 'ave a laugh…?"

"When we were a family, you mean?"

"We still are a family."

John shook his head. "No. We stopped being a family when you started drinking." He met his father's eyes. "I don't mind. I've got a family now. So's Mike. It's Mam that hasn't. She could never get another like we could."

"I never wanted to hurt any of you, John."

He snorted. "Bit late to say that, innit?"

He was surprised to see a grin identical to his own cross Jack's face.

"What?" He frowned slightly.

"Nothin'. You just sounded like a right Cockney git for a minute there. You've been living 'ere too long, son."

Despite everything, John couldn't stop his own grin. "It's home now. I don't mind soundin' like a Londoner."

"Just don't you go forgettin' where your roots are, all right."

John raised an eyebrow. "Don't think I could, even if I wanted to."

There was silence for a few minutes. It was a strange silence, not tense or uncertain, as John had grown used to at even the suggestion of his father. It could almost be described as comfortable.

John got abruptly to his feet.

"I've gotta go. I'm due at work."

Jack nodded, giving a slight smile. "Thanks for comin', son. It means a lot to me."

"Yeah. See you." John turned to leave.

"Will I? Again?"

John sighed silently. "Dad, listen. You've said what you wanted to say. I've said what I wanted to say. I don't think there're any other reasons for us to see each other."

"I thought it was goin' all right…"

"It was… it is. But it doesn't mean anythin'. You're not part of my life anymore. I've moved on, and that's it. I'm sorry, but I'm never going to be able to forget what you did. It might not hurt so much now, but it's still there. I can't pretend it didn't happen, and I'm not going to."

Jack shrugged the same strong shoulders as his son. "At least you came. An' you were civil. I'm grateful for that."

John nodded. "Bye, then."

"Yeah. See you, son."

As John left the café, he suddenly felt as if the slightest bit of weight had been taken from his shoulders.

X X X

"You met him?" The slight Scouse edge that still remained in Mike Boulton's voice became more noticeable in his surprise. "Jesus, kid, I thought you'd be the last person in the family to go an' do that."

John trapped the phone between his ear and shoulder so he could flick the cap off a bottle of Bud. "Yeah, tell me about it. I don't know why I did it, really. Guess I was just…"

"Curious?"

"Yeah… It's been five years, Mike. I just wanted to see if anything had changed."

"And had it?"

John rubbed his eyes. "I dunno. He looked the same. It was like lookin' into the past, to be honest. But he didn't seem so brash… so in your face…"

"Like you are, you mean?"

"Shut it, you. It just seemed like he was tired or somethin', sick of it all."

"Maybe he's found out how hard goin' straight is. I mean, he's not drinkin', he's gotta job…"

"So he says," John interrupted.

"You don't believe him?"

John sighed. "I don't know, Mike. I've spent so long not trusting a word he says that I can't accept he's gone on the straight an' narrow just like that. You know, when we were sitting there, he just reminded me of how he used to be, before everythin' started. I was actually talking to him like I used to. Then he said something and I just remembered everything he'd done to us. He just wants to forget it all, but I can't… I don't even know if I can forgive him…"

"He's got no right to ask you too." Mike's voice hardened, making him sound like the protective big brother who had once tried so hard to keep John safe.

"That's the thing though… He didn't…"

"Then forget about it. He's not asking and you're not giving." Mike paused for a minute. "I always thought I would forgive him, John, one day. But now I'm not so sure I can. I look at Nick and Dan and Lia, and I wonder how any father could raise a hand to his kids, let alone do what he did to us. I think the things he did are things that just can't be forgiven, no matter how long you try for. You know what I mean?"

John took a long swallow of beer. "Yeah. I know."

"I just think… Oh, bloody hell, hang on a minute." Mike's voice faded as he took the phone away from his mouth to yell. "_Daniel_! Leave her alone. For God's sake, no one would ever know you're fifteen years old. Act your age, will you? I said _leave her_!"

John grinned broadly as his brother came back on the phone. "Having fun?" He could hear his younger nephew Dan in the background, winding up his five-year-old sister.

"God, this place is chaos sometimes. And Nick's coming back from the Sports Institute next week." There was a note of pride as he mentioned his eldest son, now nineteen and enrolled in the prestigious football camp at the Australian Institute of Sport. "Christ only knows what it's gonna be like then."

"And another one on the way?" John teased. "You're a sucker for punishment, mate."

Mike laughed, obviously relieved to be on an easier topic. "Actually, I was just getting round to that. It's not another one... It's another two…"

"Say what?"

"We're having twins, if those scans can be trusted."

"Bloody hell!" John's mouth dropped. "What do Nick and Dan think about it?"

"They think Jen and I should invest in some condoms. Dan says he'll buy me some for Christmas."

John cracked up, helpless to stop himself. "You should try being here. I've had to explain to Adam how babies are made."

"Oh, that's always a fun topic… _Daniel, what did I just say!_… You wait till you have to convince him that condoms aren't boring-coloured balloons… _Lia_!"

John was nearly deafened by his only niece as she screamed at her elder brother. "Nice to know you're in control of them, Mike."

"I thought a big age gap might make it a bit easier. Who was I kidding? I've never known two kids wind each other up as much as those two. Let's hope the twins end up a bit quieter."

John heard the sound of something breaking and the now-mature voice of fifteen-year-old Dan protesting his innocence.

"John, I've gotta go before they destroy the house. Talk to you later, yeah?"

"If you're still alive. Bye, mate."

Mike hung up to go and stop the fast-brewing war. John grinned and hoped his two would not take after their cousins.

X X X

"Dad?"

John glanced up as Adam wandered into the kitchen, having just been dropped off from school by best friend Jarrett.

"Have a good day, mate?"

"Yep." Adam jumped up onto one of the breakfast bar stools, shrugging out of his blazer. "Dad?"

"What?"

"Right, you know you told me how babies get made?"

"Yeah."

"Well, Jarrett's brother said you were wrong."

_Brilliant. Thank you, Jarrett's brother._ "Did he?"

Adam nodded seriously. "He said your mum and dad have to shag."

John nearly died trying not to laugh. His son looked so thoughtful about the whole thing it was hilarious, although undoubtedly Claire wouldn't agree when she heard.

"Dad, what's shag?"

"Um..."

"Devon said you have to go to bed to shag."

"Who's Devon?"

"One of Jarrett's brothers, I just told you!" Adam looked accusingly at him, as if he hadn't been paying attention. "And he said that his and Jarrett's sister shags her boyfriend all the time, and that's he's seen them do it in the back garden."

John had to turn away to silently laugh.

"Dad, what does it mean!" Adam was getting impatient.

John searched for a good explanation, better than the one he'd received from Mike at the age of seven. "It's when a man and a woman hug each other in bed," he eventually came up with, quite pleased at his diplomacy in the matter.

"So, you and Mum do it, then? And that's why Mum's pregnant?"

"Yeah. Exactly."

Adam nodded thoughtfully. "OK. Can I go call Jarrett now?"

"Why?"

"Coz he said I had to tell him when I found out what it meant."

He headed for the kitchen door. "Thanks, Dad!"

X X X

The months passed slowly. Adam, jealous that his Australian cousins were going to get two new siblings when he would only get one, had been begging Claire to get another baby to go with the first. He'd been extremely disappointed when his dad had eventually told him that it didn't work like that, and he'd have to be happy with one. The thought of twins brought John out in a cold sweat. Mike was welcome to them.

Jack hadn't been in touch again. John had made no attempt to show how he felt about this, not even to Claire, and she knew better than to ask. It was obvious that he wanted to put it out of his mind, with more important things to worry about, and she didn't want to cause more problems for him. He seemed to be dealing with it, whatever he was thinking. He wasn't short or moody, and as the long summer holidays arrived, he almost seemed to be spending more time with Adam, always playing rugby with him in the garden, or taking him swimming or down the park. Claire couldn't help but think he wanted to make up for everything Jack hadn't done.

September arrived and with Adam back at school for his second year, Claire finally accepted her maternity leave as Jen in Australia gave birth right on time to two healthy twin boys. For the first time since they were teenagers, John heard his brother cry as they spoke on the phone the morning after the birth.

"And you've got all this to come, mate," Mike said, sniffing slightly. "It's the best feeling in the world…"

"Yeah, I do have a kid already, in case you've forgotten. I can just about remember what it's like."

"Don't start being a sarcastic git on one of the best days of my life."

John grinned. "Know you're calling them yet?"

"Reece for the older one, and we think Brett for the other. You thought of any names?"

"Looks like we'll be going for Jamie if Ad's got anything to do with it. Roen as a middle name."

"That sounds good. Mam'll appreciate the Irish connection. You've still got a while to go, haven't you?"

"Yeah, over one and a half months. Seems like years."

Mike laughed. "It'll happen soon enough. Um, John, listen a minute…"

"What?"

"…I got a card this morning. From Dad."

John's voice remained perfectly level. "Right."

"Wasn't much. Just saying he was happy for us and he hoped everything went well. You heard from him?"

"No, not since last time. Not expecting too."

"You bothered about that?"

John was quiet for a minute before replying. "No."

He heard the sound of shouting at Mike's end, the two mature voices of his nephews mixing with Lia's young yells.

"_Will you be quiet!_" Mike attempted to shout over them. "John, I've gotta go, mate. Dan's threatening to throw Lia in the pool and Nick's turning my living room into a football field. I'll ring you again, yeah?"

"'Kay, mate."

John put the phone down and turned to Claire.

"We're never having more than two kids."

X X X

The phone on Don's desk was ringing. Precariously holding a mug of coffee and a doughnut in one hand, he reached over and grabbed the receiver with the other.

"CID. DS Beech at your service." He listened for a minute. "Nah, luv. You want John Boulton. Hang on." He leant across the desk and tossed the receiver to John. "St Hugh's."

"What'd they want? I haven't gone assaulting any of their patients today." John grinned. "Maybe they've found out I've been getting free coffees from the nurses station." He held the phone to his ear. "DS Boulton."

"Mr Boulton, this is Heather Wilson from St Hugh's."

"Oh yeah?" He gave Don a humorous look.

"Is your wife Claire Boulton?"

The grin froze on John's face. "What's happened? She okay? What's going on?"

"Well, she's in labour…"

"She can't be," John cut her off sharply. "The baby's not due for another three weeks."

"I'm sorry, Mr Boulton. I'm only telling you the information I've been given."

John's throat went dry. "Yeah… I'll be ten minutes…"

He dropped the phone, not bothering to check it landed in its cradle. His chair was sent flying as he stood.

"John?" Don looked up at him, seeing the panic in his best mate's eyes.

John looked at him, shaking his head wordlessly, unable to find anything to say. Don shot to his feet, reaching out a reassuring hand. "Come on, mate. It'll be all right. Tell me on the way, yeah?"

John allowed himself to be guided down the corridor to the stairs. His mind was numb, unable to absorb any information apart from the fact that sent a chill to his heart. It was too early.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

The St Hugh's nurses must have thought an armed raid was going down when John burst into the delivery room, sending everyone and everything in his path flying out of his way as he shot across to his wife. Only Claire, the one who should have been entangled in panic, showed no surprise at her husband's entrance.

"I thought you never got scared," she said as he grasped her hand in both of his.

"What's going on?" His eyes were filled with an emotion she had only ever seen once before. "This can't be happening… it's too soon…"

"John, it's happening. For God's sake, don't go to pieces on me. You're meant to be the one who's always in control."

He couldn't stop a grin. "We both know that went out of the window when I met you."

He reached out to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into him. She rested her head against the solid squares of his chest, needing his strength more than she ever had before.

"They want to do a Caesarean, John," she whispered.

"Is something wrong with the baby?" His grip tightened on her.

"I don't know… I don't know what's happening…"

"Mr Boulton?" A man in green scrubs crossed the room to the couple. "I'm Dr Stone. I'm the obstetrician here."

"Look, I don't care who you are, just tell me if my baby's all right." John's patience was beginning to fray. He looked helplessly towards the doors and saw Don looking in. His best mate's eyes were filled with same half-fear as his own were.

"The baby's what we called breached. It means it's the wrong way round."

"What, so you're going to cut my wife open!"

"Very subtle, John," Claire muttered.

"It's not as bad as it sounds, Mr Boulton. We do Caesareans all the time. Please try not to worry it."

"Try not to worry? This is my wife and my son we're talking about!"

"Will you stop having a go the one person who can help!" Claire fixed him the hardest glare she could muster. "Jesus Christ, you're worst than you were last time. I'm the one who's supposed to be screaming at everyone, not you!"

He forced himself to calm down, gripping her hand hard. "I just don't want anything to happen to either of you… I don't know what I'd do…"

"That's a great note to go to theatre on, thanks." She managed a smile. "I'll be fine. We'll be fine. Now will you stop panicking and go and wait with Don? He looks like he's about to start tearing his hair out. Remind him this isn't his baby, will you?"

John allowed a weak smile.

"And don't forget to pick Adam up from school." Even with the prospect of giving birth looming ahead of her, Claire was still in charge, still every bit in control. She tugged the front of his shirt and brought him down to seal her lips against his. "You'd better be waiting when I get back or I'll kill you."

His gaze never wavered from her. "You're on."

X X X

Don picked Adam up from school, seeing that John would not want to leave the hospital. He'd never seen his mate look so worried as he watched him pace the corridor, mumbling to himself. Occasionally, he would squeeze his eyes shut and tilt his head up, as if asking for help from the god he didn't believe in. John was scared, scared for the safety of his wife and his baby, not knowing what was happening but all the time aware that so much could go wrong.

"What's wrong with Dad?" Adam asked as he followed his uncle down the corridor towards John. In his full school uniform, he looked completely angelic and was attracting a lot of attention from the nursing staff for his cuteness. Ever the showman, he'd even stuck his school cap, usually reserved for formal occasions and assemblies, on his blond mop and the women were in raptures over him.

"He just wants your mum to hurry up so he can see your little brother," Don replied with unusual diplomacy. "Don't worry, he's all right."

"Are Mum and my brother all right as well?"

"Course they are!" Don squeezed the boy's small shoulders. "You'll get to see 'em soon. We've just got to wait till the doctor says we can, okay?"

Adam nodded, cheering up considerably. He freed himself from Don's arm and hurtled down to his dad, throwing his arms round John's legs in a bear hug. John looked down and smiled for the first time.

"Hey, mate." He scooped the boy up into his arms. Adam hugged him round his neck.

"You okay?" Don approached with a knowing look

John met his eyes and nodded slightly. "Not heard anything yet."

He set Adam back on the ground and sat down. Adam immediately scrambled up next to him.

"Can we see the baby yet?"

"Later, mate."

"How much later?"

John put an arm round his son, pulling him close. "It won't be long. You go and get a Mars bar or something from the machine." He pushed a couple of coins into Adam's small hand. "Go on, we'll wait for you."

Adam jumped down and careered off to find the vending machine without any further encouragement. John slumped back in his seat, rubbed his hands across his face.

"Hey, come on." Don slung an arm across his shoulders in reassurance. "They're gonna be fine."

"It's too early, Don. What if…"

"Listen, that baby's a Boulton, right? And he's got Boulton blood in him. He'll fight all the way, just like his dad and his mum would. Don't worry."

"I can't help it… I mean, premature babies…"

"Don't even think about it, John! He's gonna be perfect, just like Ad was."

"What was I?" A familiar voice demanded.

Adam pulled himself back up onto his chair, clutching a Mars bar and a Twix.

"A pain in the arse," John grinned, ruffling his son's hair. "You got enough there?"

"I'm hungry. The food at school sucks."

"It better hadn't, the money I'm paying for you to go there."

"Excuse me?" Don interrupted. "_Who's_ paying?"

The moment of light-heartedness passed and John fell silent, wrapping his arm protectively round Adam again. He stared straight ahead, not even focusing. He tried to imagine his baby's first screams, but only heard silence…

John closed his eyes and prayed.

"John? John." Don nudged him, making him look up sharply to focus on the still-gowned doctor.

John shot to his feet, his heart leaping into his throat. He couldn't say a word.

"You've got another son, Mr Boulton." Stone saw the younger man's emotions about to overflow and said the only thing that needed to be said.

A surge of relief washed over John and reached down to take Adam into his arms, hugging him close. "And Claire?"

"Fine. We've got her a room on her own until she comes round a bit more. There were no problems."

"Where's the baby? Is he all right?"

"A bit underweight, but that can be expected. Apart from that he's healthy and screaming his head off." Stone's ruddy face relaxed into a rare smile. "He's in the Special Baby Unit for now, so we can keep an eye on him, but it shouldn't be long before he can go in with his mother."

Don clapped his mate hard on the back. "Told ya, didn't I?"

John grinned broadly, reaching to grip Don's hand. "Thanks, mate." He swiped hard at his eyes. He hadn't felt elation like this since Adam's birth.

"You crying, Dad?" Adam peered curiously at him, a look of surprise on his face.

John choked out a laugh. "No, mate. I'm just… happy…" He looked to Stone. "Can I see Claire?"

"Yeah, course you can. Follow me."

Grinning like a pair of idiots, John and Don traipsed behind the doctor down to Claire's room with their arms round each other's shoulders, Adam in the middle looking embarrassed to be seen with them.

"Go on, mate. We'll wait for you here." Don stopped and swung Adam up into his arms. "We'll find another chocolate machine, eh, kid?"

"Yeah!"

John grinned and winked at them both. "See you in a minute." He swiped at his eyes once more before quietly entering the room, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Want a visitor?"

Claire grinned at him from the bed, reaching out to take the hand he offered her. Her eyes shone in the same way they had that day their first son had entered the world. "He's all right, isn't he?"

"Yeah. No problems," John assured her. ""He's a bit small, but he'll make for it."

She smiled, squeezing his hand. "Go and see him."

"You sure?"

"I think I can cope without you for ten minutes. Go on. Say hi to him from me."

John grinned. "And do I call him Jamie?"

She nodded. "I think so."

"At least that'll keep Ad happy. I won't be long, yeah?" He reached down and brushed his lips softly against hers. "I love you."

He returned to the corridor where his son and best mate were waiting with a bar of chocolate each.

"Are we gonna see the baby now?" Adam blurted out.

John's grin broadened further. "Yeah, mate."

"What's his name?"

"Thought you were deciding that."

Adam's own grin, identical to John's, lit his face. "Jason."

"Hang on a minute, you said Jamie…!"

"Oh yeah. That's what I meant." Adam waved a dismissive hand.

He charged off down the corridor ahead of the men.

"Come on!"

X X X

John's new son curled his tiny hand round his father's finger. Jamie Boulton looked up at his visitors, observing first his dad, then his brother, then his godfather. He wasn't the double of Adam, his eyes being as brilliant blue as his mother's, and his wisp of hair a darker blond, but John couldn't have cared less. He was healthy, and he was perfect. That was all that mattered.

"Hey, Jamie. I brought you a Lion bar!" Adam leant over the incubator and waved the chocolate in front of his new brother.

"I think he might be a bit young for that, mate," John grinned.

Adam wasn't listening. "Dad! He's smiling at me!"

"He knows who you are."

The boy beamed. He offered his brother his index finger. "When you come home, I'll show you how to get sweets an' pocket money out of Dad like I do. And I'll teach you how to play rugby an' footie an'…"

Grinning to themselves, the men moved away to allow the new brothers their first few minutes together.

"You know what, mate?" Don leant confidentially towards John. "I think you're gonna have your hands full there."

X X X

The morning after, at home with Don and Adam, John received a card he hadn't been expecting. He sat alone in the bedroom, staring at it for a long time, before he eventually slit the envelope and opened it.

It read simply:

"Good luck to you, Claire and your sons. I know you'll never make any of the mistakes I did."

It was signed not 'love, Dad' but simply 'from Jack.'

For what felt like an eternity, John stared at the writing, reading it over and over again. After minutes had passed, he reached across the bed, sliding the card carefully into his bottom drawer so that it was hidden from view.

Then he left to visit his wife and son.


End file.
